Out of Sight (Progenitor Book 1)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “You need food,” said Sima.

  “Hey, I can’t get out,” yelled the other kid, likely a boy. “It opened a inch, but it’s jammed.”

  Sima crawled around the empty stasis pod with Lissa hovering close. The way the roof crimped in allowed a small passage between the two sections of the room, but getting through would require sliding on her belly under a mass of mangled metal.

  “Lissa, stay with…” Sima pointed at the boy.

  “Juan,” he said.

  Lissa pouted.

  “Please, sweetie.” Sima hugged her. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  Once the child trudged back to Juan, Sima flattened out on the smooth floor and pulled herself under the debris fall. Grit scratched at her sweaty skin, which otherwise slid with ease over the metal tiles. Jutting scraps poked her in the shoulders, butt, and leg, making her feel as though she crawled under a mass of deadly knives. She twisted to peer uneasily up at the twisted remains of the lifeboat’s roof and the machinery responsible for pumping air into the stasis pods.

  If this thing shifts, I’m going to be trapped… or shredded. Ugh, don’t think that. Go forward.

  Inch by inch, she crawled. Something pointy scraped along her back and threatened to pull her underpants off, though it didn’t hurt, so she hoped it hadn’t cut her. She exhaled to make herself smaller, freed her snagged waistband, and grabbed at the floor to drag herself forward. Once clear of the debris fall, she got to her feet. The avalanche of warped metal divided what had been one single room into two, the rear chamber somewhat smaller than the outer one. Several large metal beams pressed down on top of the second stasis pod, pinning the lid closed. Sparks spat from openings in the rear wall where metal panels had fallen away, revealing the mechanical workings that had split the once enormous stasis pod bay into individual lifeboats. Head-sized holes in the hull at the back wall offered a view of the grass outside.

  Sima rubbed a scratch on her left thigh and hurried over to the pod.

  A frightened boy a few years older than Juan huddled inside, curled up by emergency open button, his teeth chattering. Fog leaked from a crack in the upper window at the point where a thick girder had cracked it, as well as the opening where the clamshell lid had gone up a few inches.

  She stepped closer into the fog, cold enough to make her gasp. The fear on his face gave way to hope when she brushed at the ice crystals on the outside of the lid. He fell on his side, reaching an arm out the few-inch gap between the stasis pod lid and the bed. She took his hand in both of hers, alarmed at the coldness of his skin. This pod’s cooling system appeared to be working still, leaving the inside like a freezer. Huge brown eyes set in a round face brimmed with tears. He seemed to be fighting to look brave, but couldn’t stop sniffling. Numerous small scars marked his shins and forearms, trophies from jumping among buildings and ruins—another Outcast street rat in brand-new EG-provided briefs.

  Sima rubbed and patted his hand. Gratitude at finding him alive stole any words from her tongue. He didn’t have to beg for his life, the expression on his face did all the work.

  No wonder he looks healthier than the other two. He’s a master at that look.

  For an instant, old jealousy welled up inside her. This boy could make four or five times what she could at begging—but that didn’t matter anymore. She sighed out her nose, feeling like an awful person for being envious of a kid stuck in a broken stasis pod. The most well practiced pleading stare in the world couldn’t convince death to leave him alone.

  Sima frowned at the girder pinning the lid down. The boy must’ve overheard her tell Juan to check under the pillow, and the mechanical whine came from the pod attempting to open. She didn’t trust her arms to be able to withstand another smashing session… that she had broken the first window defied belief. I’m not strong enough to do that again… and I think I hurt myself. Minutes passed as she studied the way the duralloy beam draped over the stasis pod and stuck into the floor like a javelin.

  An idea dawned.

  “Be right back.” She let go of his arm and scooted to the gap she’d crawled through. “Juan?”

  “Yes?” asked a small voice from the other side of the tunnel.

  “Slide the axe to me please.”

  Lissa coughed.

  A moment later, Juan crawled in from the mangled tunnel, stood, and held up the axe. She patted him on the head and pointed back. “Stay with Lissa. She’s scared.”

  “So am I.” He stared down at his toes.

  Lissa crawled in behind him and grabbed Sima around the thigh, peering up at her with soulful blue eyes.

  “Okay, fine. Stay on this side, but wait here. I’m going to try and move that beam, and I don’t want it falling on you.”

  The kids huddled against the wall of useless storage compartments. Sima knelt by where the metal girder pierced the floor and wedged the axe head under it, using it like a pry bar to lever the duralloy shaft out of the divot it made. It gave a few centimeters, but she couldn’t get it to pop over the lip of the gouge.

  “Hit the button again,” yelled Sima, while pulling on the axe handle.

  Whirring came from the pod as its motors protested the weight bearing down on the upper half. She clenched her jaw and growled, straining already-spent arms. The struggling pod lid shifted the girder forward. Something exploded with a sharp bang in the wall, and a shower of sparks rained down over the pod’s lid. Sima reared up on her knees, and pushed downward on the handle with all her weight.

  The beam popped free of the hole. Tension released, the axe sprang loose and went flying into the wall with a ringing series of clangs as Sima fell flat on her face. A spine-wrenching screech of metal flooded the room from the girder scraping over the floor, bending from the force of the lid rising. Juan and Lissa clamped their hands over their ears.

  Another blast of sparks accompanied a sizzling noise and the light inside the second pod going out. At that instant, the lid jammed, only a few inches wider than it had been. The boy crawled to the foot end, stretched his arms out the gap, and slithered forward. His hips became stuck, leaving his fingertips inches from reaching the floor.

  Sima scrambled to her feet, grabbed his arms, and pulled. He grunted, bracing a foot on the inside wall and pushing. After much groaning and squirming, he popped free with a sudden lurch, knocking her off balance. She landed flat on her back with him sprawled on top of her, as cold as a hunk of chicken taken out of a fridge. Sima stared at the mangled ceiling, not quite sure how to process having a boy lying on top of her, both of them in their underwear.

  If he was two years older, this would be awkward.

  “That was awesome!” He hugged her before crawling off and kneeling beside her. “Wow, you’re pretty.”

  She sat up, covering herself with her arms, blushing, and staring at him. At his lighter skin tone, she figured him for culturally mixed, though something about his face suggested a strong Middle Eastern influence, probably one Caucasian parent. Juan picked his nose. Lissa stared at her, grinding her toes into the floor. After a few seconds, she ran over and clamped on.

  Sima tugged the girl’s drooping underpants up. “We need to get some food in you.”

  The older of the two boys glared at the storage cabinets. “They’re empty. They stole my Wondercube. I had like a million games.”

  “Yeah. The cabinets in my escape pod were empty too.” Sima looked at his arms. “Where’s your bracelet computer?”

  “You’re a juvie, aren’t you? Only the criminals got them, so they can’t run away.”

  Sima blushed. “I’m… I was picking up food packets after a transport flipped. I’m not a criminal.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” The older boy folded his arms. “You got arrested and you’re guilty of whatever they made up.”

  At the delicate pattering of electronic typing, she raised her arm. The bracelet’s holographic screen appeared, text already in the midst of typing itself out.

  ‹The boy is not
yet old enough for an Omnicomputer as he has not reached twelve years. Children are not expected to leave the colony safe zones. Adolescents such as yourself are to be tasked with jobs, which may present risk. I assure you, I am not a restraint device or a mark of criminality.›

  “I’d believe that more if I could take you off,” she muttered and carried Lissa over to the wall, where she picked among the swaying cabinet doors, confirming them all empty.

  “Bastards skimped. They stuck us on this colony ship off the record.” The older boy did a little bouncing dance, his legs pinned together. “Be right back. I gotta piss.”

  “How do you know that?” Sima followed him to the tunnel out. “I mean that they skimped.”

  He got down onto his belly and shimmied under the mangled metal. “The EGSF guys that rounded us up were talking about it.”

  “That’s horrible. Why would they do that?” asked Sima.

  “We’re not worth anything to them,” yelled the boy from the other side of the tunnel.

  Sima set Lissa down and ushered her into the opening. “Stay low so you don’t cut yourself.”

  The little one flattened herself out and crawled without a word. Juan followed, and Sima dragged herself through last.

  Bouncing on his toes, the older boy paused at the door. “They gave us food and a bed. Even had a game room while we stayed there. It wasn’t like we were arrested. ’Course, we had no choice ’bout bein’ shot into space. They promised us families who’d like want us.”

  Lissa sniffled. “They were gonna fix my breaths even more here.”

  Juan mutely wrapped his arms around Sima.

  The eldest boy exited the lifeboat. “Whoa…”

  Sima held the smaller kids’ hands and ducked the top of the hatch to step outside. The older boy had stopped three steps out of the dirt pit, staring dumbstruck at the alien forest. Lissa smiled at the sky. Juan looked confused.

  “What’s that?” Juan pointed.

  Sima squinted. “I think it’s a tree. You’ve never seen trees before? Not even in school?”

  All three children shook their heads. The older boy looked around for a moment before selecting a bush to water. Sima sighed in her head. Like her, all these kids had ever seen of the world were rancid alleys full of desperate, cramped people. It’s a miracle they lived long enough to be sent to die here. She closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from crying. Lissa giggled from a short distance away. It’s not fair. She opened her eyes to find the girl chasing a butterfly-like creature with a long trailing phosphorescent blue tail. Juan explored in short steps, squirming from the sensation of grass and tall plants touching him.

  The older boy returned and stood next to Sima.

  She glanced at him. “So, what’s your name?”

  “You first.”

  “Sima.”

  “I’m Austin.”

  After a few minutes exploring their new environment, the children clustered around her, staring up with expectation on their faces. Why are they looking at me like that? What am I supposed to do? I’m still a kid, too. Hatred for the Earth Government Security Force burbled along with bile in the back of her throat. On the streets, she couldn’t stand little kids. Either they whined, made too much noise, or got more charity because they were cuter than an older girl. Lissa’s huge blue eyes hit her with a heavy crash of guilt. No words had to be exchanged. All three asked her for help.

  Whatever. Not like there’s an ORC bin around I can throw them into get them out of my hair.

  The weight of this new responsibility made her sick to her stomach, or perhaps the discomfort in her belly came from the near miss of almost watching two children suffocate. She swallowed hard and gathered the kids close. Lissa adored the embrace, though Juan grew restless after a few seconds.

  “Okay, you three need water and food. I found some fruits we can eat. Stay here and I’ll get some.”

  “No,” whispered Lissa. “Don’t leave us.”

  “Wait!” Juan scrambled back inside the escape pod, and returned a moment later with an empty plastic jug. “For water.”

  “I won’t be long.” Sima smiled down at the girl while brushing strands of blonde away from her face. “Bracelet, set a waypoint here.”

  A beep emanated from her right wrist.

  “That’s cool.” Austin grabbed her arm, ogling the bracelet. “What else does it do?”

  The holo panel appeared. ‹Scanning, location tracking, time display, Dreamland access (no connection), wireless communication (no signal detected), navigation, encyclopedia functions, bio monitoring, companionship, and sarcasm.›

  Sima handed Austin the axe and took the empty bottle. “Watch the little ones. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  He saluted and stood like a soldier.

  Lissa accused Sima of abandoning them with a glance and broke into sniffles. Juan shivered in fear, but nodded.

  “I promise I will be right back.” Sima gave her a kiss atop the head and trotted off.

  The plastic jug had a plain white label with black lettering identifying the contents as ‘protein base fluid C’. A thin residue of beige goop clung to the inside, the top evidently sheared off in the crash. Likely, some part of that tangled mess in the lifeboat had impaled it.

  Sima headed toward the nearest water source as indicated by a handy little map display courtesy of the bracelet. She squatted at the bank of a bubbling stream and drank a few handfuls. After rinsing the bottle and filling it as much as it could hold with water, she headed back toward the lifeboat, taking a slight detour upon spotting one of the spiked pods a short distance away.

  She couldn’t reach any of the fruits since the pod hovered about twice her height off the ground. The thinness of the stem gave her the idea it might be easy to bend. She set the water bottle on the ground, grabbed the tall plant, and pulled. Perhaps helped along by the weight of the massive fruit-bearing structure at the top, the stalk bent with relative ease, bringing the spiky pod within reach. After gathering an armload of the crimson fruits, she let go, allowing the plant to bob back into the air. Sima retrieved the water and walked, careful to watch for thorns and not drop any of her bundle, following the yellow triangle floating above her arm.

  Whoever said you grow up to be like your parents needs to burn in hell. Mom always screamed I’d have kids by sixteen, but I don’t think this counts.

  Soon, she emerged from the trees into the clearing the crash made around the lifeboat.

  “Sima!” Lissa squealed and sprinted over, almost losing her underpants in the process.

  The child’s impact knocked the fruits everywhere and nearly took Sima off her feet. She yelled in alarm, focusing on keeping the water from spilling. Austin ran over and took the jug before she dropped it, and downed several long gulps. Juan, not strong enough to lift the nearly full jug, scooped handfuls of water out of it and drank. Sima decided to sit in place, and Lissa climbed into her lap, wrapping her arms and legs around her like a trembling koala. Sima’s heart sank. This kid is so convinced I’m going to abandon her.

  “Hey,” whispered Sima, rubbing the girl’s back. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna leave you guys. I mean it. Here, you need to drink. You’ve been two days without any water.”

  When Sima eased her around toward the bottle, now on the ground, Lissa released her grip enough to stick her face in the top and suck down water in rapid gulps. Juan and Austin gathered up the fruits, making a pile nearby before sitting as if in a campfire circle. Sima fixed Lissa’s pants back in place, then used the axe to chop one of the fruits in half for her.

  She held the end to the girl’s mouth. “Here, you can eat this. It tastes sweet at first, but it has a bitter flavor after. Don’t eat the peel.”

  Lissa nibbled and made a sour face, turning away. A few seconds later, she nibbled again, her expression confused.

  “It tastes better if you eat it fast.” Sima prodded her in the lips with the fruit until she took a bigger bite.

  The bo
ys dug in, both cringing at the initial overbearing sweetness, then grimacing at the sharp aftertaste. Soon, hunger and the raspberry flavor overpowered their initial revulsion, and the kids stuffed themselves. Lissa lost interest in food after half a fruit, but Sima kept at her until she finished a whole one. Juan drank more, and threw a little water on his face.

  Sima sat cross-legged and ate two fruits, rushing the process so the nasty rhubarb-like aftertaste never quite overpowered the initial blast of sweet berry. Lissa stuck her finger in one of the abandoned rinds and painted purple lines on her pale chest.

  “Wow, it’s so hot here,” said Austin, squinting into a light breeze that didn’t do much to alleviate the oppressive humidity.

  “It’s nice,” whispered Lissa.

  Juan shrugged.

  “How hot is it?” asked Austin.

  Pattering came from the bracelet. ‹99.4 degrees.›

  There had been a few days hotter than that back home, but there, humidity never amounted to much. Usually, those days, Sima would stay underground somewhere until it cooled off at night. She gazed up at the sky, which didn’t look too much different from home—giant mantas notwithstanding. Though, the blue color, so rich and endless, might’ve been what Earth had looked like centuries ago, not the drab bluish-grey she got to see on ‘clear’ days.

  “The sky is pretty. Look how blue it is,” said Sima.

  All three kids looked up.

  “Ooo,” said Lissa. “It is pretty.”

  “Wow.” Austin gazed left and right. “What are those white spots?”

  “Umm, I think they’re stars,” said Sima. “Saw them in school.”

  “You went to school?” asked Juan, awe in his eyes.

  Sima nodded. “Yeah, until grade six.”

  “I was in fifth,” said Austin. “They didn’t show us anything about stars.”